


Birds Out of a Cage

by thatsoccercoach



Series: Which Door? [36]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: EASTER FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 03:24:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14150892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsoccercoach/pseuds/thatsoccercoach
Summary: The Frasers at Easter.





	Birds Out of a Cage

                                                        

She often called them her little chicks. Today they had been like birds out of a cage, flying free around the lush green landscape that surrounded their home.

It was Easter and the world around them was bursting with new life and spring promises. They had opened their home and surrounding land for a celebration. Their friends from work, both the hospital and fire station, were there. Family such as Ian, Jenny, and their bairns as well as Murtagh and his “friend” Suzette were scattered across the lawn engaged in conversation and games. Many neighbors had brought food and were mingling with one another as well.

Their little Faith and Brianna were clothed in frilly dresses suitable for dancing and twirling. Claire had taken special care with their hair. The curls could be tricky at times. Though she couldn’t see them now she could guarantee that Faith would still be dressed perfectly with not a curl out of place. Bree could be guaranteed to be having fun without thought to what it would do to her appearance. And Claire adored them both just as they were.

As if her thoughts drew them to her, her husband and daughters appeared on the lawn before her. Faith held one of Jamie’s large fingers in her small hand and walked daintily as if her moves were a choreographed dance. Beside her, Bree staggered like a drunken sailor on a rolling deck as she determinedly walked unassisted. Claire spotted evidence on her knees and hands that indicated she may have taken a fall or two on her quest for independence.

“Hello my loves!” she called out prompting smiles from Jamie and Faith and a screech of elation from Brianna. “Where have you been all this time?” she asked, moving down the steps from her spot in the doorway where she’d been watching the happenings.

“We danced, Mama!” Faith clapped her hands delightedly then, rocking forward to stand on her toes, stretched her skinny little arms out to be held. Scooping her up, Claire snuggled her close as Faith wound her arms and legs around her mama like a baby koala. “We danced,” she repeated into the crook of Claire’s neck. “Kitty and Maggie and Jamie and Bree and me too,” she ticked off on tiny fingers that Claire could feel at the back of her neck.

“Aye,” Jamie joined in. “The McCormick lad brought his fiddle and was playing for all the bairns. ‘Twas a sight, Sassenach, our lasses and their cousins tumbling all about in the grass dancing!”

“That sounds lovely,” she replied. “This has been a marvelous day, Jamie. All of our loved ones here celebrating with us,” she sighed happily and Faith in her arms echoed with a sigh of her own.

“Come wi’ me, lasses,” Jamie held his hand out to his wife who began to fall into step him. He swept Bree of her feet and tucked her under his arm before she could fuss about not being allowed to walk. He grinned and led them all out to the field as dusk began to settle over Lallybroch.

* * *

As evening turned to night the girls had fallen asleep beside their cousins on an oversized picnic blanket that had been spread over the grass. Lights strung from the trees cast a dreamy glow across the lawn where folks still lingered. Conversation had dwindled but that which remained had become more intimate. A bonfire had been lit opposite the row of light-covered trees creating an informal dance floor in between. The music had gradually gone from lively songs to those that were soft and sweet, floating away on the night air.

Claire had looked so bonny in her dress she’d worn to mass that morning. Her hair had been put up in a bun but, as usual, threatened to tumble down at any moment. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes twinkled, even in the dim light. Jamie had pulled his wife from the blanket to her bare feet.  She stumbled over a root or other impediment in the dim light and giggled before falling into his embrace. Slowly they swayed back and forth to the tunes, arms wrapped around one another, his nose resting upon her curls that smelled like something growing in a garden.

“Thank ye, Claire,” he whispered.

She pulled back abruptly, looking up at him in surprise. “For what? I haven’t done anything. This was an Easter celebration that everyone had a hand in!”

“No’ for this,” he let go of her long enough to gesture at the loved ones still lingering.

“What then?” she whispered back, settling against his chest again. She wanted to listen to his heart.

“For finding me. For loving me and marrying me. For our bairns. For being my home and,” he paused, “my heart.”

“I love you.”


End file.
